Strained
by Slayergirl
Summary: Buffy spends some time in a hospital waing room, getting to know SPike better - or is it William? Many thanks to Joss for the characters (specially Spike!)
1. Default Chapter

She stumbled and fell before he could catch her, landing awkwardly, ankle buckled under her.  
  
"Ow. That would be major pain," she said, trying not to swear.  
  
"You okay, pet?" he crouched down beside her, holding out his hand. She took it and he pulled her back onto her feet. She tried to walk a few steps, but nearly passed out from the pain in her ankle. This time he caught her.  
  
"Ankle. Must have twisted it or something."  
  
"Lean on me till we get you home." They started off, but it was obvious to him that she was tiring rapidly.  
  
"Spike, I need to sit down for a bit, I can't use my ankle at all, and hopping's tiring."  
  
"Well, there's nowhere to sit, pet, except the ground. And that would make getting back up again difficult…"  
  
"But I can't…"  
  
"Put your arms round my neck. DON'T argue. And don't wriggle."  
  
He picked her up and carried her home. Well, patrolling was getting to be more than a little interesting these days. Though he hadn't expected to be carrying Buffy home after having accidentally twisted her ankle from simply tripping over a tree-root. He almost laughed, it seemed so idiotic. The slayer, having to be carried home by a vampire. Okay, so he was on her side. 'Inside' something whispered wickedly inside him. He banished the thought. Her ankle was rather more important at the moment. Just as well she wasn't too heavy. He glanced at her. She was clinging to him, her head bowed. He could sense her pain.  
  
"Nearly there, love," he said comfortingly. "Soon have you home." He knew she was trying not to let him see the tears of pain that were coursing down her cheeks. He pretended not to notice.  
  
He took her into the house, setting her down on the sofa. His fingers started pressing on the rapidly swelling ankle, a frown on his face.  
  
"I think you should have this checked out. Just to make sure," he said to reassure her. "I can't tell what you've done to it, but no harm in checking and being over-cautious. I'll drive you to the hospital."  
  
Everyone stared at them as he carried her inside the hospital. He didn't care. They sat down in the waiting area.  
  
"How you doing, pet?"  
  
"Okay." She didn't want to admit it wasn't.  
  
"Hell of a nasty fall, slayer. Made me wince. I'd have been sobbing like a baby if that'd been me." He slung an arm round her. "I think pretty much anyone would cry." He didn't look at her, but she knew what he meant. He was giving her a let-out – to cry without looking weak. She reached out and took his free hand, holding it tightly as she let the tears out.  
  
"It hurts so much…" she sobbed. He held her tightly.  
  
"Hold onto me, pet," he said gently.  
  
The sobbing subsided, but she kept a tight hold on his hand. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't be. No one's invulnerable. Even slayers." She glanced up quickly and grimaced.  
  
"So you've told me. I expect the others you've come across would agree."  
  
"You know I'd never hurt you."  
  
She laid her head on his shoulder. "I know. If you'd wanted me hurt or dead you could have left me in the woods. Some vamp would have done it for you." She felt him shudder at the thought as he held her tighter.  
  
"Never that. Never."  
  
"So – what makes me different from the ones you killed, then?"  
  
He looked at her as though considering. "Well, you're far better looking, for one thing."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Is that all you ever think about?"  
  
He chuckled. "No. Only every time I see you."  
  
She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was secretly pleased.  
  
"Seriously. Why?"  
  
"Well, we keep on ending up on the same side, for one thing. Then I got to know you. I liked the way you could be rebellious and cynical, yet still be funny and caring. And you're smart. And very attractive. And you're loyal." He thought of his grandsire at this. She would always love Angel, in some way. Even if she married, had children, Angel would be her first love. There would always be a place for him in her heart. In her life. He wondered if she'd ever care about him enough for that.  
  
"Spike? Earth to Spike!" He realised he'd been staring blankly at her.  
  
"Sorry, just thinking."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Oh, just – stuff. Friendship. You know."  
  
"Not really. Care to elaborate?"  
  
"Just…" he didn't really know what to say. "Well – you're the best friend I've ever had. Well, you and Dawn. You know, vampires aren't noted for having bosom buddies, and all that. And. And, whatever happens, if you meet someone, get married, have children, I'd – I'd like to think we could still be friends…" he trailed off lamely.  
  
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time, and squeezed his hand. "You'll always be my friend, Spike. I need you around too much."  
  
He smiled. "Thank you." He seemed subdued. They were silent for a few minutes, then he spoke again. "You know, that's the worst thing about being a vampire, for me. I never had the chance to have children…" he said sadly.  
  
The statement surprised her. It was the last thing she'd have thought… "You'd like to have children?"  
  
"Mm. I think it's being around Dawn so much that does it."  
  
Buffy nearly choked. "WHAT?!"  
  
"No, no, not like that!" He looked shocked. "No, just – well, you know, looking after her and stuff. It's – well, as though she was – I mean, I love her as though she was – well, my child. Can't help it"  
  
"Hm, you certainly spoil her enough!" she admonished.  
  
"I know. Little minx has me wound round her finger."  
  
"She'd do anything for you, though. You can manage her so much better than me."  
  
"Ah, so that's why you need to have me around," he teased. "Do you want to have children?" he asked curiously.  
  
"Don't know, really. Not bothered at the moment." She added, "You'd have made a good father," not sure if she meant it or not. Still, where was the harm?  
  
'So would Angel,' he thought, wondering if she'd thought the same thing. He didn't want to know. He wanted to keep the conversation going. It was rare they ever managed to sit and talk.  
  
"Maybe with the right person?" he said.  
  
"Mm, maybe. But the problem is, slayer duties? Kinda hard, mixing motherhood and slaying."  
  
"I could babysit," he said hopefully. She laughed.  
  
"Can you imagine it? 'Go stay with Uncle Spike while I go out slaying.' 'Mom, he drinks blood!' 'Yes, dear, he's a vampire. All vampires drink blood.' 'But I thought you killed vampires, mom.' 'Yes, dear, but it's not polite to kill your best fr…'" She stopped, realising what she'd been about to say. He raised a scarred eyebrow at her, surprised.  
  
"BEST friend?"  
  
"Well, apart from Willow," she said, trying to shrug it off.  
  
"Really?" His voice was suddenly wistful, and she realised how much he just wanted to be loved and accepted.  
  
"'Course."  
  
"You – you never said…"  
  
"Well, I didn't want you to get any more cocky than you already are."  
  
He was far from cocky, as he replied softly "I'm flattered. Really. Means a lot…"  
  
"Don't go mushy on me!" she commanded. She could feel tears stinging her eyes at this rare show of weakness. She wanted to hold him, reassure him. 'Must be all the talk of kids,' she thought. 'I'm getting all maternal over a vampire!' Not that he was you average vampire anyway.  
  
"Told Xander yet? That I've supplanted him?" Back to his cocky self. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"I wish you two could get on better!"  
  
"He has a problem with vampires. Not going to happen."  
  
"Mm. He had a problem with Angel, too. Never really trusted him. But really, Spike, you do bait him."  
  
"Oh, but it's fun!" His blue eyes trying so hard to look innocent.  
  
"Cut the innocent look, you know I don't believe you," she laughed.  
  
"Always makes you laugh, though, pet. That's why I do it."  
  
'Yes,' she thought, 'every time I'm hurt or upset or down. Without fail. He's the one who makes me laugh, the cheeky sod.' She nestled her head onto his shoulder. "How much longer d'you think well have to wait? Don't want to be here still by sunrise…"  
  
"Not long." He hoped. Her hand was almost crushing his, she was holding it so tightly. He'd probably need his hand set before the evening was out. "Hurting any less?"  
  
"A bit. Talking keeps my mind off it."  
  
There it was – permission to carry on the conversation without getting beaten to a pulp. He was glad she wanted to keep on talking. Somehow, he felt closer to her like this than at any time before. Including her clandestine visits to his crypt. She was opening up to him, letting him see the real Buffy. 'Mind, she was probably finding out more about him,' he thought wryly. Though she seemed not to dislike what she was finding out.  
  
"Well, then, lovely weather we're having," he said, mocking the English stereotype.  
  
"Delightful. It always is in Sunnydale, or had you not noticed?"  
  
"That'll be because of its geographical location," mock-wisely.  
  
"Yeah, the fact that it's over a hellmouth." Small pause. "Just hope there's not too much action until I've got my ankle better."  
  
"I'll patrol until it is. And I'll give you a full report afterwards." She smiled gratefully.  
  
"You don't mind?"  
  
"Anything for you, pet," he drawled, wondering at his own daring. She didn't object, just cuddled closer. She suddenly seemed small and fragile, almost child-like herself. He wondered fleetingly if that was part of the attraction – the look of vulnerability making him want to protect her.  
  
"You know, there are times I forget you're a vampire," she remarked. "You're really not like any other vampires…"  
  
"Not even Angel?" He could have kicked himself for saying it. He didn't want to be compared to his grandsire. Too late.  
  
"No, still different. I mean, Angel's different too, because of his soul. And that's what makes him Mr. Nice Guy." 'Her love. Her hero. In a way.' "But without a soul…" she trailed off. 'Her worst nightmare…' "But you – you don't have a soul. Okay, you have a chip that stops you hurting humans, but you could still live – er, unlive – without me and the gang. But you help us. Help us to fight evil. Look after Dawn. Listen to me whining about work, and life in general. You do good things, altruistic things, and you don't have a soul, so it's not out of guilt. Is it?"  
  
"Well, I do feel guilty sometimes – like, not saving you…"  
  
"Don't get started on that. You did your best. Don't!" she chided.  
  
"Okay," he smiled sheepishly. "Well, I feel guilty sometimes if things don't go according to plan. You know. But usually afterwards. It's not why I do things."  
  
"So, why do you do it? Fight evil, help us?"  
  
"Hm, fighting evil. Well, can't kill humans, got to get my aggression out some way…"  
  
"And training with me doesn't do that?"  
  
"Well, not entirely," he said, grinning. "Pent-up emotions, you know… anyway, that's how it started."  
  
"And then?"  
  
"Then – well, I did it to please you." She smiled to herself.  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Well, bit of both. And also, it's just a way of unlife. I've got used to it." The next thought surprised him. "I actually like doing it. You know, helping people. You, Dawn, the others. Even the wider public at times. Making the world a better place." He paused. "Hell, I am getting to be like Angel, aren't I?"  
  
She smiled. "Not really. And I prefer you as you are."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Oh yes. I don't think I'd like Spike-as-hero. Angel was my hero. Beautiful, noble, and untouchable – unless I wanted him to turn nasty. I couldn't go through that again…" She seemed to be thinking aloud. "You're more like – I don't know, some mafia boss maybe. Dangerous unless you're on his side, but who'd protect his own to the death…" she trailed off.  
  
"Hm, me as a gangster? Maybe. But only if you'll be my doll!" She laughed and cuffed him playfully.  
  
"You know what I mean. You're not either one extreme or the other – either perfectly wonderful or horrendously evil. You're – well, like most humans. More complex than that. Good and bad all mixed up. You know what I mean?"  
  
"Mm." He couldn't ask if she was really trying to say he was better than Angel. It seemed to comfort her to talk to him about Angel. It certainly comforted him to know she didn't want him to be like his grandsire. "So, you actually like my bad side then?" he teased. 'Oh, c'mon love, admit it. You love my bad side… you like it when I'm bad…'  
  
She looked puzzled rather than embarrassed. "In some ways, I suppose so – because I know you'd never hurt me and mine. Because you'd use that nastiness to protect us. Because I know that, under the hard edge, there's a tender heart."  
  
He looked surprised. "You write poetry, love?"  
  
"No – no – it just came out that way. Don't know why."  
  
He shrugged. "Just sounded – kind of poetic."  
  
"You still write poetry?" He thought she'd have forgotten.  
  
"Sometimes. Not worth reading, though," he said hastily.  
  
"Ah, William and his poetry," she said smiling. "Vampires have a lot in common with the humans they were sired from, don't they?" He nodded his assent. She smiled. "He must have been a lovely person. Truly lovely. So much of him shines through you, untarnished by evil, even after decades of corruption…"  
  
He looked at her, barely believing what he was hearing. She looked as though she was in a trance. Maybe it was the pain. He hoped it wasn't.  
  
She looked suddenly confused. "Buffy?"  
  
"What - what happened?" She looked dazed, puzzled.  
  
"You tell me. I don't know."  
  
"I saw something. You looked different. I hardly recognised you. But it was you, I could tell from the eyes…" He didn't like the sound of that.  
  
"Tell me what you saw," he said gently.  
  
"He had brown hair, slightly curly. And glasses, I think. But it was you. Your eyes…" He was relieved, and kissed her forehead gently.  
  
"That was William, not me. I bleached my hair, comb it back. And vampires don't need glasses."  
  
"It was you, then?"  
  
"Well - in a manner of speaking."  
  
"Oh, so I'm not going crazy." He cuddled her closer.  
  
"No, not crazy. You've just been delving deep into my psyche, and seeing things that are in my mind rather than yours. Partly because I wanted you to see them. I didn't know you'd actually be able to do that, though, or I might have tried to stop you."  
  
"Why? Afraid of me knowing stuff about you? I know all the evil things you've done. Nothing could shock me now."  
  
"It wasn't the evil things I was thinking about, actually. More – everything else. The things that make me vulnerable…"  
  
She smiled. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone that you're really-"  
  
"A big fluffy puppy with bad teeth?" She laughed.  
  
"Acting tougher than you really are. You're a romantic under all that I'm-so-scary-and-bad exterior, aren't you" He glanced side-long at her, admitting it. He'd have blushed if he could.  
  
"Yeah, just a softie. Some of the time," he added quickly. After all, he had his reputation to think about.  
  
"I won't tell. Promise." They sat in silence for a while. "Anyway, I prefer you as a non-slayer-killing vampire," she said firmly.  
  
"Never said I was non-slayer-killing," he pointed out. "I just said I wouldn't ever kill you." He wondered if she'd take the point.  
  
"You'd kill another slayer?"  
  
"There's one more I'd kill, given the chance," he said grimly.  
  
"Faith." A statement, not a question. "Why?"  
  
"The only thing worse than a slayer is a slayer gone bad. One who likes evil, torture, maiming, beating up. Not a quick kill." He'd never really liked the whole torture thing. "And the way she tried to mess up your life. And the lives of your friends. Tried to kill you. Tried to kill Angel…"  
  
"I thought you hated him?"  
  
"Resent him. Not hate him. He's my grandsire. I adored him. Respected him. Then he got souled. I hated seeing him so – well, crippled. He never found out I killed the gypsies who did it. I hated them for it. I loved him, see? I wanted revenge. Didn't make me feel any better. Then, losing his soul – stealing Dru from me…"  
  
"You hated me for that too, though, didn't you? Blamed me for it."  
  
"At the time. But it wasn't your fault, you couldn't have known. But you're another reason I resent him."  
  
"Me? Why?" She realised why too late and nearly kicked herself for it.  
  
"He got there first," he said simply. "Hell always be your first love, your hero, your dream. As he was with Dru. I'll always be second best to him. Always in his shadow. I can't be more evil than him – it just really isn't in my nature. I know, I'm impetuous, I rush at things, do things when I'm angry that I regret later. But I don't pre-meditate evil and torture…" She remembered him coming after her, intending to kill her, being unable to because she was crying. "I can't be better than him, either. Can't be more good than he is now. Can't be noble and – souled. That's what I resent. Being second best. Inadequate."  
  
"I don't think you're inadequate."  
  
"You're just saying that to make me feel better."  
  
"No," she said softly. "I mean it. You're a loyal friend. You're always there when I need you…" he grinned to himself, 'you're right there, pet – any time you need me, any time you want me…' "Angel usually just turned up to warn me I was in danger – always used to worry me slightly. You know, boyfriend turns up, oh, I must be in danger again … not a good vibe. Not that I minded at the time. It's just – now, I need someone around that I can count on, who'll always be there. Someone to take away the pain…"  
  
"Literally."  
  
She nodded and smiled. "It's a little better. Anyway. You also make me laugh. You're intelligent and well-read, you can speak other languages…"  
  
"Only French and Latin!" 'Oh, and the language of love…' he added mentally.  
  
"More than me. I never was very good with languages." She went on. "Bluntly honest. And brave – you'd give your life for me without a second thought."  
  
"Angel would have done that too."  
  
"And you're not untouchable. Not out of reach…" 'Right again, slayer…' he thought to himself. 'I'm right here…'  
  
"Doesn't that make me less attractive?" 'Mm, this was getting interesting…'  
  
"Duh – that's why I creep round to your crypt for some after hours activity!" They were both surprised she'd actually admitted to it. She hadn't intended to. Even though it was true.  
  
"So… you find me attractive then?" He was brightening up considerably.  
  
"Do you really think I'd sleep with you if I didn't?"  
  
"Well – it might have been – you know, just needing someone, and what with me being around the whole time…"  
  
"No. Well. Partly. Perhaps. But I wouldn't have slept with you, even if I'd just been using you, if I hadn't found you attractive."  
  
"So, were you using me or not?" He wasn't sure.  
  
"Well, I thought I was. Oh, I don't know…" She wasn't sure either. And wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.  
  
'At least she found him attractive,' he thought.  
  
She felt she was beginning to understand him. She'd never really taken the time, made the effort, before. Now – he just seemed like a sensitive, slightly shy, very attractive man. She'd never really seen that side of him before. 'Quite a sweetie, really,' she thought. And he loved her. Devotedly. There was no doubt about that. Suddenly, she wondered what she'd done to deserve it. Somehow, the fact that he happened to be a vampire no longer entered into the equation.  
  
"I wish I could take you into the sunlight," he said wistfully. "See the sunlight on your hair … go for picnics with you and Dawn…"  
  
She almost made the same comment she'd made to Angel when he'd said something similar. Instead, she said, "I'm as much a creature of the night as you. That's when I do my real work. When I become my real self, the slayer. At night." She smiled. "And the night can be very beautiful. When there aren't any demons trying to kill you…"  
  
"You like the night?"  
  
"Mm, moonlight and starlight. Mystery and stillness. Depends. Sometimes it's kind of scary. You never know what's going to pounce on you." She grinned at him." Luckily for me, it's usually you doing the pouncing these days!"  
  
"Oh, you think you're lucky for that, do you?"  
  
"Way more fun than being jumped by a slimy demon who's trying to kill you," she smiled.  
  
"Hm, remind me to pounce on you more often, then, and drag you off to my crypt for 'after hours activity'," he teased.  
  
"When my ankle's better, perhaps…" Was it a concession? She didn't know. Part of her wanted it to be. At least, if he was going to be like this – sensitive, gentle, tender. She liked this side of him. More than was entirely comfortable. But a part of her longed just to be held and comforted by him. To let him be strong for her, just let herself be weak, let him protect her, cosset her. As though she were a child… She cuddled closer, wondering what he was thinking. He wrapped his arm closer round her, wondering the same thing.  
  
"Hope neither of you faints at the sight of blood," said a passing nurse. "If you do, close your eyes now. Man's had a nasty accident. They're bringing him through on a stretcher now…" she handed Buffy an ice pack. "Sorry it's taking so long. There's been a bad road accident. Blood everywhere, broken bones. Shut your eyes if it's likely to upset you." The nurse wandered off. Buffy could feel Spike shaking with laughter next to her and her own mouth twitched into a smile.  
  
"Spike, really, those poor people…" she tried to reprimand.  
  
"Sorry, love," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "It's just – the idea of a vampire fainting at the sight of blood…" he started laughing again. Buffy stifled a giggle.  
  
"She didn't know you were a vampire!" she reminded him, desperately trying to banish the smile that was lurking round her lips. His laughs subsided a little.  
  
"I know. Still funny, though," he smirked. "Anyway, give me the ice pack." He held it to her ankle, now stretched across his knees. She was glad of it. It numbed the pain.  
  
"Comfortable?"  
  
"Not – entirely," she replied. "Could you – I could do with something to support my back." He wrapped his arm back round her so that she could lean against him, her head propped up on his shoulder.  
  
"Better?" 'It was certainly better for him…'  
  
"Mm." She'd never felt quite so aware of him as she did now, liking the feel of his arm round her. He seemed unaware of how she was feeling. She was glad of it Somehow, she just wanted to savour the feeling.  
  
The change in her pulse gave her away, but Spike made no comment. Somehow, he just wanted to savour the feeling… her sitting in his arms, wanting to feel their closeness, somehow loving the slight tension it brought between them. Neither of them wanted to break that tension of desire. Not even by the tiniest of kisses or a single word. Buffy hardly dared to breathe. Spike closed his eyes, knowing she was wondering what it would be like with him in this mood – unexplored territory… 'slow, gentle, perfect,' he thought, imagining it too.  
  
"Buffy Summers?" The voice broke into their thoughts. The tension was broken, the fantasy gone. Spike picked her up and carried her over to the doctor.  
  
  
  
"Well, it's not broken," he said. "You've just strained it. Don't walk on it for a couple of days until the swelling's gone down – an ice pack will help. If necessary, take some painkillers. It'll hurt for a bit, but no harm done. Remember, don't put any weight on it for a while. Will you be all right getting her home?" He turned to Spike. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."  
  
"William." It was Buffy who spoke. Spike looked at her, surprised but grateful, blue eyes soft with tenderness.  
  
"No problem. My car's out back, and she's not heavy…"  
  
The doctor smiled at him before turning back to Buffy. "You know, you're lucky to have a friend like that."  
  
"I know," she smiled.  
  
"Right. Come back if it's not better in a couple of days. And don't put any weight on it," he said as he showed them out.  
  
Spike fussed over her as he sat her in the car, wrapping a blanket round her knees.  
  
"Spike, I'm not an invalid, it's just a strained ankle! Don't fuss!"  
  
"Sorry…" 'anything to get you under a blanket…' he dismissed the thought rapidly.  
  
'Nice eyes,' she thought to herself dreamily as she smiled up at him. He shut the car door carefully.  
  
Neither of them spoke on the way home, though Spike often looked over at her to make sure she was all right. Her eyes were dreamy and she was smiling. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but was unwilling to break into her daydream. 'She's dreaming of you,' said the insistent, insidious voice inside him.' Like he hadn't worked that one out by the way she was…  
  
Hand break on, out of gear. She sighed. They were home. As he opened the door, she held her arms up to be lifted out of the car, and he carried her inside.  
  
"How's it feeling?"  
  
"Still hurts."  
  
"Where do you keep your painkillers?"  
  
"Kitchen cupboard." He returned a few minutes later with the painkillers and a glass of water. She took them gratefully. "Thanks." He sat on the arm of the sofa, gently stroking her hair, not knowing quite what to say or do.  
  
"I'm glad you're here," she said softly, as she stretched her legs out on the sofa. He popped a cushion under her ankle and started massaging her shoulders gently.  
  
"Tense…" he said, fingers searching out the knots and deftly easing them away.  
  
"Not any more," she said, letting her head fall back to rest on his thigh. "Mm, feels good."  
  
'Bloody right it feels good…' he thought. 'But this really isn't the time, with the ankle in that state, don't want to damage it…' "Want me to pick Dawn up from Willow's? You shouldn't be on your own for too long, in case you need something.."  
  
"No, just phone, Willow'll bring her back, then you can drive Willow home on your way back to the crypt."  
  
"Good as done." He was a trifle disappointed she hadn't asked him to stay…  
  
  
  
Days passed, the swelling went down. Spike patrolled, giving Buffy a detailed account every evening. Well, it gave him an excuse to see her…  
  
"I think I'll come with you tomorrow."  
  
"Oh no you won't, love. You're out of practice, you'll need to do some training before I let you patrol. Come and train at the crypt tomorrow, see how it goes."  
  
"But…" she was half cross, half touched. And he was sounding just like Giles in a flap.  
  
"C'mon, I don't want you to get hurt. It's just a safety net thing, y'know? Just to make sure you'll be okay with the real thing." She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Okay. Crypt. Tomorrow." 'He was right'.  
  
She went to the crypt just as the sun was setting. No sign of him. 'He can't be out' she thought. 'It's only just getting dark…'  
  
She caught the sound of a movement behind her and whirled around. Spike in game face. She tensed, waiting for him to attack. 'So, he'd been going to see how she'd deal with an ambush, then?' He pounced, and they sparred, first one getting the other hand, then the other. The sparring went on, Buffy eventually starting to win. Then she found herself pinned to the ground. She felt a heatwave going through her, and couldn't fight back. He lowered his head as if to bite her. She closed her eyes, unable to resist.  
  
He let her go and she looked up. Blue eyes, now. "Well, that was going fine until you let me 'bite' you, slayer," he said dryly. 'Hm, she really couldn't resist…' "Just as well I wasn't actually trying to kill you!" 'there are so many things I'd rather do to you…' whispered the voice in his mind.  
  
She sat up, annoyed. 'How could she tell him it was just him that was the problem – that she just wanted…' She pushed the thought away. 'She'd be okay with any other vampire. Even Angel. She'd killed him once before, after all. But not Spike. She just couldn't…' She tried to ignore the suspicion that she might just be falling for him. "Mm, maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to train more before I go patrolling." 'It was the safest option for tonight to say that, anyway. Did he suspect?' She couldn't tell.  
  
"How's the ankle?"  
  
"Fine now, thanks. Good as new."  
  
"Didn't hurt while we were sparring?" She shook her head.  
  
"No, I didn't even think about it," 'just about a lot of other things.' "Completely normal."  
  
"Drink?"  
  
"No thanks." She was beginning to suspect he suspected, but unusually for him, he wasn't taunting her with it. Maybe she was just getting paranoid.  
  
"More sparring?" Hell, was she tempted!  
  
"Uh – maybe not tonight. Tomorrow?"  
  
He gave her a lascivious grin. "Can't wait. Walk you home?"  
  
"Mm." Actually, she'd be glad of the company.  
  
They set out in silence. They hadn't gone far when Buffy muttered, "we're being followed."  
  
"Yeah. Two vamps. Keep walking and hope they don't attack." She obeyed. But they did.  
  
Spike was worrying as he fought the larger of the two vampires. 'Would Buffy be okay?' He staked the vamp and turned just in time to see her throw the other one to the ground and stake him, too. "Okay, I take it back," he remarked. "You obviously haven't lost your touch." He made no mention about the reason for what had happened earlier in the crypt. But she could see he was thinking it.  
  
"So, I'm allowed to patrol on my own now?" she asked, trying to keep the tone light.  
  
"Well…" he'd like to go with her… He caught her eye. "Yeah. But if you want a hand…"  
  
"I know." 'Jeez, part of her had almost asked where! Now, interesting thought…' she banned it from her mind.  
  
The rest of the walk home was uneventful. Spike went in to see Dawn, then returned to the crypt. Buffy decided an early night would be a good plan, but couldn't get to sleep. The suspicion that she was falling for Spike was becoming more and more of a reality. 'Maybe it was a slayer thing – falling for vampires?' she wondered. 'Angel and Spike. Same bloodline. Strange…'  
  
She woke up, shocked, about midnight. 'Okay, she couldn't ignore her feelings for him any longer. Not after that dream. She'd have to tell him, however he might taunt her about it. This was getting crazy! It scared her, though. All the males in her life seemed to desert her – her father, Angel, Riley, even Giles, now.' She realised how afraid she was that Spike would leave her too. 'Irrational' she thought. But she knew she'd still hold back from telling him. Just in case.  
  
When she set off to patrol that evening, she'd resolved to let him know. She loved him. Simple as that.  
  
It was remarkably quiet. She wondered if Spike had got there first, and smiled. 'Probably.' She stalked on. Still no sign of anything.  
  
Thoughts of Spike kept invading her mind. The feel of his arm around her. The tension there had been… She wondered for about the hundredth time what it would be like when he was in that kind of mood – gentle, tender, sensitive. A tremor ran up her spine. She wished he was there with her…  
  
Tiny movement behind her. But before she could react, a pair of strong arms grabbed her round the waist. Heat surged through her as she wriggled round – to be confronted with a pair of blue eyes.  
  
"So… fancy some 'after hours activity', slayer?" he teased.  
  
"Only if it's with you, William…" 


	2. Part 2

She gazed regretfully at Spike's sleeping form. 'I really should be going…' she thought as her eyes took in the soft, ruffled hair, the rather sweet, almost innocent smile. She didn't want to go.  
  
He'd made love to her for the first time. Oh, they'd had sex before. Many times. But she knew the difference now. It was – as though he'd wanted to reward her for having seen the real person he was. Not just the cynical, taunting guy she could use at will, but the shy, sensitive, caring man … that she'd fallen in love with. No, that was wrong. She'd loved the cynic. But it was seeing the sensitive side of him that had made her realise it. She wondered how long she'd been trying to deny to herself that she loved him. All of what he was as Spike. William. There was no divide any more. She loved him for what he was.  
  
Still, it was late – she should be getting home.  
  
She sighed, and moved, trying not to wake him. But even as he slept he was aware of the movement and wrapped himself around her, murmuring her name.  
  
He was dreaming of her! She smiled slightly, touched, and pulled the cover round them. 'Looked as though she'd have to stay after all, she was so closely intertwined with him.' She was glad of having the excuse to stay – she'd been so tempted to anyway. And she could hardly go now, could she?  
  
He was purring. She smiled again. 'Obviously a good dream…' she thought. At least he didn't snore. 'Well, vampires don't, they don't breathe…' But she rather liked the purring, so quiet it was almost imperceptible – 'like a kitten,' she thought. 'Better than Riley's snoring…'  
  
She nestled into his arms, content just to be. She felt safe, warm and comfortable in her lover's arms. The rest of the world just didn't matter any more. This was what she wanted, to be lying here in his arms. Nothing else mattered…  
  
It was Spike moving his head to look at her when he awoke that disturbed her sleep. He smiled, still half asleep himself.  
  
"Still here? I thought you'd have gone home."  
  
She cuddled closer to him. "No. You were all curled round me, and I didn't want to wake you by moving. And anyway, I was happy where I was."  
  
"Still happy now?" he asked, stroking her hair.  
  
"Mm…" She closed her eyes. How she loved him!  
  
He laid his head back down on the pillow, content just to hold her. It was good to feel the warmth of her body next to him, to know she was happy to be there. Knowing that she cared, at least a little. He'd settle for that. But he knew he was her friend, and that meant a lot. Her friend, and her lover. Not just the guy she slept with when she felt like it.  
  
A small black ball of fur landed on him. He groaned. Buffy looked up, half puzzled, half amused.  
  
"Yours? I didn't know you liked cats…"  
  
He looked abashed. "Uh – well – just found the little thing by its mother in the woods. Rest of the litter was dead, so was the mother. Felt sorry for her…"  
  
"What's she called?" she asked, holding out her finger to the kitten.  
  
"Well – I just call her Kitty."  
  
"Very original!" she commented. Then laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just remembering parent teacher night. Remember? When you attacked the school." 'Which had actually stopped her from being grounded. And his impatience, not waiting for St. Thingy's night, had probably saved her life, too…'  
  
"Why?"  
  
" 'Sla-yerr … here, kitty, kitty,'" she mimicked him. "Remember?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Women! Trust you to remember that!"  
  
"I was hardly likely to forget!" she teased. "So, was it deliberate, or just lack of originality?"  
  
He debated what to say for a moment, then opted for the truth. "Lack of originality," he admitted.  
  
"Cute little thing," she commented as the kitten sniffed her finger. "But what do you feed her on? Not blood, I hope?"  
  
"Hardly. Dawn brought some milk for when she comes round here … and she brought some other stuff…"  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "She never mentioned it!"  
  
"No, well, thing is," he stuttered. "Um – didn't want anyone to know. Y'know, doesn't fit the image … vampire takes in stray kitten…"  
  
"Well, neither does, 'vampire sleeps with slayer' or 'vampire babysits slayer's kid sister' or 'vampire helps slayer to kill demons' or…"  
  
"Point taken. But really, stray kitten?"  
  
"It's cute!"  
  
"Precisely. Vampires don't do cute."  
  
"You're cute."  
  
"I'm…" he stopped, realising what she'd said. "I'm cute? In what way?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Smart and good-looking," she said, adding mentally, 'and adorable'.  
  
"Oh!" he was relieved. He was a vampire, after all. He had a reputation to keep up…  
  
Not that he cared much about his reputation while she was lying there in his arms.  
  
Kitty started mewing. "Wants some milk," he explained, regretfully getting out of bed. He returned once the kitten had been fed, and curled up with Buffy again, who was watching the kitten.  
  
"I think you're more interested in Kitty than in me," he said, pretending to be upset. She looked up at him quickly and smiled.  
  
"Being interested in a pet is a compliment to the owner," she replied.  
  
"I'm beginning to think she owns me," he said ruefully.  
  
"Cats are like that," she said comfortingly. "Anyway, it must be nice to have her around."  
  
"Mm. And Dawn loves playing with her…"  
  
"You and Dawn!" she laughed. "You really are like brother and sister … apart from the age difference, of course."  
  
"Mm." A thought struck him. "Will she be okay? You know, on her own?"  
  
"Not on her own. Willow's there with her."  
  
"They won't worry about where you are?"  
  
She smiled. "No, I told them where I'd be…"  
  
"Oh – so you were intending to come round here anyway?" he teased.  
  
"Well, I had a suspicion I'd run into you on patrol."  
  
"And suspected I'd pounce on you and drag you back to my crypt?"  
  
She smiled again. "Well, I was right, wasn't I?" she said sweetly.  
  
"Lack of originality strikes again!" he said, with a self-ironising curl of the lip.  
  
"Well, nobody else has tried it. Most vampires just try to kill me."  
  
He chuckled. "Something I'd never do!"  
  
She batted him gently on the arm. "I should hope not!"  
  
He looked tenderly at her for an instant. "Well, not any more, anyway," he said softly.  
  
She nestled closer to him. "That's a relief…"  
  
"I could never have killed you."  
  
She looked up at him, surprised. "Why?"  
  
"Too clever. Too resourceful. Always finding a way out…"  
  
'Time for an admission,' she thought. "I could never have killed you, either." 'It had to be said.' "You were too strong."  
  
He kissed her on the forehead. "Equally matched. Well, you know what they say. If you can't beat'em, join'em."  
  
"So you end up sleeping with the enemy?!" she teased.  
  
"That's mixing metaphors!" he reproved. "Anyway, you're not the enemy any more."  
  
"Always good to know. Given the choice, I'd rather be on your side in a fight."  
  
"Flattered! But you killed the Master … he was stronger than me, surely…"  
  
She considered. "Physically, maybe. Harder to kill. But – you'd already killed two slayers. Angel thought you'd be harder to beat too, because you didn't give up when you started something. The way you spoke to me, you were so sure you'd kill me, it almost convinced me that you would, and – you looked so normal. I mean, the master was ugly. But you – I don't know, there was something that made me feel threatened. I was afraid of you. Not of being killed by you, as I was by the Master. I was afraid of you."  
  
"You're not now, though, are you?" he said, alarmed.  
  
"No. Not now. Not any more." 'Could she say that part of her fear of him was his attractiveness? That part of her had felt somehow drawn to him, even though she'd feared him? That part of her would have let his teeth sink into her neck, would have let him draw the life from her…? Maybe some other time…'  
  
"Good. I don't want you to be afraid of me…" his fingers caressed the back of her neck gently, winding in her hair. I'll never hurt you – never leave you … unless you drive me away, of course. But then, you'd only have to crook your finger and I'd come running.."  
  
She knew he meant it, and it comforted her. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want him to leave, that being with him felt so right, but he began talking again.  
  
"I noticed even then how beautiful you were…"  
  
'Bet Drusilla was pleased,' she thought. 'No, he wouldn't have told Dru.'  
  
"And I noticed how well you fought. Better than the other two. I knew it would be a close thing, if we fought…" He shook his head as if to dispel the memory. "Ah, well. All in the past now."  
  
"Mm. Glad of it."  
  
"So am I. You hungry?"  
  
"Starving."  
  
"Well, then, let's have some breakfast." Buffy sat up as if to get out of bed. "No, stay there…" He disappeared off to the fridge.  
  
She was sprawled on her front, eyes closed, when he came back. Hearing the chink of glasses, however, her eyes flew open. "What…?" she began. He grinned amiably back.  
  
"You should keep a tighter rein on that sister of yours, you know. She told me you might pop round to see me, so I laid in some supplies…"  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Champagne and strawberries? On the off- chance? What else did she say?" 'Had Dawn told him?'  
  
"Just that she thought you might appreciate it. It was her idea," he said modestly.  
  
"So you went along with it … you really are wrapped round her little finger!" she said, relieved. Dawn hadn't blabbed. She'd have hugged her sister if she'd been there.  
  
'Certainly made breakfast an interesting affair…' she thought, as Spike fed her strawberries. 'Way more fun than eating toast or cereal or something.' She was enjoying it – being pampered, breakfast in bed … feeding Spike the occasional strawberry. 'She didn't really have much fun, being the slayer. Not really a fun job. It made a nice change.'  
  
Spike refilled her glass.  
  
"Trying to get me drunk so you can seduce me?" she teased.  
  
"Oh, I don't need to get you drunk for that," he whispered suggestively in her ear, holding out the last strawberry to her.  
  
"No, you have it."  
  
"Share it?" She nodded, expecting him to bite it in half. But instead, he held it between his teeth and raised an eyebrow…  
  
'Nice way of sharing…' she thought as her lips touched his. She ate her half strawberry as Spike licked the strawberry juice off her fingers.  
  
"D'you have to go to work today?" he asked, a single finger tracing her collarbone. She shook her head.  
  
"No, they still think I'm recovering with my ankle."  
  
"Good… Anything planned?"  
  
"No. Not yet."  
  
"Even better."  
  
"Why? Do you have anything planned?" she asked teasingly.  
  
"Oh, I don't plan," he replied, kissing her.  
  
When he eventually lifted her mouth from his, she asked, "What do you usually do during the day?"  
  
"Sleep, for some of it. But I've only just woken up, so I'll sleep later… Then, sometimes, I watch the telly. Write…" he glossed over the poetry. "Play solitaire, or other games … maybe I could teach you some…?" She giggled. "Do you play chess?" he inquired innocently. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"My dad tried to teach me, once, a long time ago. I don't really remember how to play."  
  
He smiled. "How about I teach you?"  
  
She found she was actually good at the game once she'd got the hang of it. She was used to thinking tactically, and it helped her understand the game. She won time and again.  
  
It didn't seem to bother him, and he hummed as he made her lunch. 'Dawn was going to have a lot to answer for…' she thought. But it had been a pleasant morning – lazing in bed, a leisurely breakfast, more – lazing, playing chess, playing with Kitty. She was now firm friends with the kitten after hand-feeding it some tuna. She felt absolutely free of worries and responsibilities, and she was revelling in it, determined to enjoy it while she could.  
  
Lunch surprised her as much as breakfast had done. Spike – or Dawn, whichever was the culprit – had gone to a lot of trouble to provide a delicious lunch, with some of her favourite foods. She made no objection as Spike sipped a mug of blood while she ate, occasionally thieving from her plate.  
  
"Why don't you have some of your own?" she teased, trying to defend her last slice of cucumber. "I know there's more in the fridge…"  
  
"More fun this way!" he said, as she hastily consumed the rest of her meal.  
  
She wondered if she should go. It was obvious that he and Dawn had planned this, though, and she was curious to find out what else was planned. However, the champagne and the large midday meal were conspiring to make her sleepy, and she found herself whisked back into bed.  
  
"Spike…" she said as he covered her over.  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"Why don't you join me? You said you wanted to sleep…"  
  
He hesitated a moment, then slid into bed beside her, though he didn't really feel like sleeping. "Can't bear to sleep alone?" he teased as he wrapped his arms round her.  
  
"Just like knowing you're there," she replied.  
  
She liked it – the feel of his arm, cool against her warm skin, her cheek resting against his shoulder, his strength encompassing her. She felt totally relaxed, and happier than she'd been for a long time. She wondered if it was possible to die of happiness. If it was, she was a prime candidate.  
  
He started singing, softly. A lullaby, the Sandman's song:  
  
"I shut the children's peepers, sh!  
  
And guard the little sleepers, sh!  
  
For dearly do I love them, sh!  
  
And gladly watch above them, sh!"  
  
She remembered her father singing it to her when she was younger, how it had always made her feel safe, as though the sandman really was guarding her. Her eyes started to close…  
  
"Then slumber, slumber, children, slumber,  
  
For happy dreams are sent you thro' the hours you sleep!"  
  
The song ended, she was almost asleep. He only just caught the barely audible words she murmured drowsily as she drifted off to sleep. Words that seared through him, spreading their warmth. Words that would echo in his heart and mind for eternity. Words that made tears of happiness flow down his cheeks. Words that, in any other circumstances, to anyone else, might have meant so little. Words that he knew she meant. Four simple words, murmured on the brink of sleep, that would change everything:  
  
"I love you, Spike…" 


End file.
